All Cold Inside
by TruthOfTheMatter
Summary: Hermione Potter is princess to the kingdom of Alteeda, but her life is no fairytale. Her mother, Lillian Potter was slain by werewolves when she was three years old, and the palace has been haunted ever since. Full summary inside. Mione is born a Potter.
1. Chapter 1

**Ok. This is a story, that I've based off a book called Jatta. But all I'm doing is putting the Harry Potter characters in this scene. Not the most original idea, I know.**

**BTW, Hermione is a Potter by birth.**

**Summary:** Hermione Potter is a princess in the kingdom of Alteeda, but her life is no fairytale. Her mother was slain by werewolves when Hermione was three years old, and the palace has been haunted by fear ever since. then Hermione wakes one morning, bruised and disorientated, soaked in sweat, to see her bedroom smeared with bloody paw prints...

**Chapter One**

Princess Hermione Potter woke on the cold marble floor, groaning weakly. Soaked in sweat. The nightmare was fading, but the horror of it lingered.

Her brother, Harrison, was mauled.

Instinctively she knew it, just as she knew the nightmare had been real. It had gone now, retreated deep below the throbbing in her head. 'Harry, I'm sorry,' she whispered, knowing she was to blame but remembering nothing.

A face peered down at her. She strained her neck to see. Her father. Soft cloth brushed her face, moping her forehead, the sweat from her lip. She tried to move but she couldn't.

Tears pooled in his eyes. 'You've come back. My precious girl.'

You've come back? She blinked up at him, understanding nothing. He'd never cried, not that she knew. She felt one tears splatter on the marble tiles beside her face, wanting it to stop, watching his chin instead. Two… three… four tears for Harrison. They fed her fear.

'Harry's dead,' she moaned.

'Harrison's alive.'

'No. It's my fault.'

He wiped his eyes, then searched her face. 'What do you remember,Hermione?'

She opened her mouth. But there were no words to explain, only confusion. A vein in her temple throbbed. She let her face roll back on the tiles and shut her eyes to recall.

Marble, cold against her cheek. Nothing. Nightgown wet with sweat. Nothing. Body shivering on the tiles. Nothing.

She opened her eyes, trying to focus. Chains clanked as she tried to move. The bedchamber tiles were smeared with bloody paw prints. They glistened in the dawn light.

'Blood.' More the repugnant smell of it that a memory.

'Blood? Yes, Harrison's. He survived, Hermione.'

'No.' But she desperately held onto his words. 'Wh –what happened?'

'Wolves.'

Wolves. Her first memory. Her mortal fear. These dark magical creatures had killed her mother.

She groaned. 'They came back for me.'

'Yes, Hermione.'

'But they g- got Harry instead.'

'He heard you scream.'

'Let me see him.' She tried to sit up. Iron clanked. She lifted her head to see her wrists and ankles loosely wrapped in chains. 'What –tell me, what have I done?'

Her father busied himself unravelling them. 'You had a fit. You thrashed about. I ordered the chains to stop you harming yourself.'

A fit? Nothing was making sense. She sat up, rubbing her cramped, bruised legs, focusing on the room. The wall lamps lay smashed. They'd been flung around, leaving burning oil. The scorch marks looked like ice-skating trails across the white floor. Bedding lay strewn in burgundy-spattered tatters. More bloody paw prints danced around her wardrobe, which had been across the room, all ten doors of it, and lay on its side through her smashed glass doors. Half of it lay in the garden beyond. How could wolves have come, and she survived? Harrison, too? Such monsters were blood-crazed. Indestructible.

'They weren't supposed to let me live,' she whispered, 'Not if my amulet failed.'

'They shall not destroy you.' The King's voice was commanding, as she had always known it, and Hermione's pounding pulse slowed. 'Hermione, we must renew your amulet's magic. This morning, I'll send an ambassador to the Sorcerer.'

'Maybe this time… shouldn't I go too?'

'No!' his eyes narrowed, suddenly severe. 'Never imagine you'll ever leave this palace.'

Hermione flinched.

'I'm sorry, my little one.' He cupped her elfin, almost child-like face in his scarred hands. 'But you know Lord Dumbledore's magic protects you only within these palace walls. I've lost your dear mother. I won't lose you, too.'

**A/N:**** So… I hope you guys liked this. This story will be updated more quickly than Intertwined Souls. If anyone has any questions, feel free to ask. If you've ever read Jatta, you would have realised that I'm really lazy :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Harry is around 4 years older than Hermione. Just to let you know :)**

**Chapter Two**

The summer sun had barely risen, but most of the palace's servants were at work. As soon as her father left, Hermione slipped into a dressing gown and poked her head into the corridor. Guards had been posted outside the chambers next door. They stood to attention, shock flickering across their faces, as she hobbled painfully towards them. She knew she must look like a disturbing sight, her baby fine brown hair matted with blood, her feet bare, her ankles bruised. She limped past them and into her brother's bedchambers, anxious about what she might find.

Harry lay pale and still, his eyes closed. The quilts had been pulled down, exposing his heavy arms and powerful chest. Spots of blood stained their whiteness, while black thread traced across his flesh, as if some mischievous child had scribbled over him as he'd slept.

Pharmacist Pomfrey bent across him, rubbing healing ointment around the surgeon's black stitches. Though her touch was light, her brother groaned.

He was alive. Hermione hadn't allowed herself to fully believe it till this moment. She tiptoes closer. Not sure what to say, she shyly stroked his hand. His eyes opened. She leaned forward, braving a smile. He registered her slowly, before his jaw hardened in aggravation.

'Go away,' he said tersely.

It felt like a slap.

'I… I was worried. I needed to see you were alright.' She bit on her lips, wincing. Of course he was _not_ all right. 'How –how are you Harry?'

'Scarred for life, thanks to you.' Then he grimaced, sharply drawing in breath. Talking seemed to cause him pain. Hermione blushed with guilt.

Pharmacist Pomfrey spoke gently. 'Prince, please remember none of this is your sister's fault.' But Harry's accusation, his rare anger too, confirmed that it was.

'I… Please, Harry, I'm so sorry.'

He waited until the pharmacist's back was turned. 'Why, in glory's name, weren't you wearing the amulet?' he growled under his breath.

'But I never take it off.' She pulled out a pearl string from around her neck, eager to prove herself. Cupping her hands so that only he might see, she showed the disc of fiery opal set in gold.

'Then why….?' He face screwed up and he groaned through gritted teeth. After some seconds the pain seemed to ease. 'Well, it didn't work last night, did it?'

'I'm sorry.'

'Glory, Mione. What's to be done with you now?' He closed his eyes wearily. 'It'll be back tonight.'

The blood drained from her face and she stared, looking almost as ill as her brother. 'The wolves? _Tonight?_'

'_Wolves?'_ His eyes opened. He stared back as if she was being deliberately stupid. Then his expression softened. 'Yes… the wolves. Mione, how much do you actually remember?'

'I remember sitting at my desk after supper. Drawing. Then, um –then waking up on the floor.'

'Nothing else?'

Hermione shook her head. 'Father says you heard me scream. What happened?'

He sighed and closed his eyes.

'Tell me what happened, Harry.'

The pharmacist returned. 'Highness, your brother is tired,'

'All right, rest now,' she whispered. But Harry was already asleep.

**I need a name for Harry and Hermione's older brother. Any requests for the name or ideas?**

**Thanks, Skye**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The palace was prickling with rumours. As Hermione limped back from Harry's bedchambers, servants crowded the corridor to whisper. They fell silent and bowed while she passed, but she felt their stares on her back. She cringed inside, regretting her haste. Why hadn't she at least waited for her ladies-in-waiting to wash the blood from her hair?

Her bedchambers were full of staff. Chambermaids hurriedly finished mopping the floor, while carpenters measured the splintered oak door for repair. Two dozen guards were grunting as they righted the enormous wardrobe. Her ladies stood huddled and whispering in a corner, waiting for the others to leave.

They fed Hermione, and then gasped when they undressed her. Four parallel slashes marked her calf. They were merely a scratch, she argued, insisting that the blood on her nightgown was Harry's. She persuaded them not to wake Surgeon Tate, although no amount of begging could prevent them calling the pharmacist.

'Highness, it's only a scratch,' Pharmacist Pomfrey said, bleary-eyed, as she swabbed Hermione's calf with alcohol. 'Anything else?'

Hermione shook her head. 'You won't tell Harrison I bothered you for this?' Her brother would only laugh.

Pomfrey stifled a yawn. 'We're lucky that foolish, brave prince is still with us. Now take this potion after supper. It'll help you sleep tonight.'

She took the little blue bottle, eyeing it with distaste.

'Straight after your meal, Highness. No later.'

After he left, her ladies filled her bathtub and sprinkled it with rose petals. They were full of prying questions; she felt it through their thick silence. She herself was exhausted, overwhelmed by Harry's injuries and by a guilt she couldn't explain. She sank down into the water's warmth and slept while her ladies lathered and massaged her scalp. She awoke hungry and shivering. Hammering had begun beyond her bathroom wall.

'Highness, will you rest now?' her ladies asked as they poured hot water in with the cold. 'Shall we find you other bedchambers while the carpenters work?' Lavender Brown, one of her ladies asked patiently.

Hermione tried to rise out of the water, but her legs gave way. Her whole body ached as if she'd been stretched on a Dartithan rack. While her ladies eased her up, Luna Lovegood suggested re-summoning Pharmacist Pomfrey.

'Please, no.' More than rest or food, more than the patently unnecessary sleeping potion, Hermione wanted her friend. 'Is Ginny back yet?' she asked. Ginny would help make sense of this whole dreadful mess. She'd know what to do.

'Highness, Baron Weasley's ship docked last night. His daughter should be in tapestry class.'

So she'd slept the morning away. Suffering a fit, whatever that meant, must be exhausting work.

Genteel chatter stopped as Hermione hobbled into the tapestry room. Ginny glanced up, then grinned. A dozen well-bred chins turned to watch.

'Good, um, afternoon,' murmured Hermione, blushing at the barrage of curious and compassionate stares. The noblemen's daughters and their instructors dipped their head in deference.

Hermione slipped into the chair beside Ginny. Slowly the chatter returned as needles again wove through the great tapestry, on which were traced scene's from the twelfth Sorcerer's life.

Ginny leaned closer as she worked, her gruff voice in Hermione's ear. 'So what happened? I came by your chambers. What's that hideous siege-proof door for?'

Behind Ginny, Ambassador Lupin's daughters and several of their friends strained to listen.

'Hey, you're as white as a plucked chook,' whispered Ginny.

Hermione took a deep, shaky breath. 'I'm all right,' she whispered. 'The doors to keep the wolves out.'

'Wolves? Lordy me!'

Her father's spice-shipping wealth had bought Ginny fine gowns, a title and a place at court when in Adaban, but not courtly manners. Hermione usually smiled at Ginny's rough curses, but not today.

'Then it's true – is your brother all right?'

Hermione began to nod, then shook her head miserably. 'He looks awful. All slashed up.'

'Not his face, though?' Ginny had gone pale. She made it no secret that she though Harry handsome. Half the girls in the room agreed.

Hermione managed to roll her eyes.

'Hey, well that's good. I mean, it's not good he's –urgh, just thinking about it. I overheard my parents this morning. There are rumors he's been attacked. Wolves from the forest, right?'

Hermione whispered in Ginny's ear, 'Not _our_ wolves.'

'_Dark Isle_ wolves!' gasped Ginny. 'What about your almighty secret amulet?'

Several faces turned towards them. '_Shoosh_,' groaned Hermione. Ginny, though, was horrified. She leaned in closer, wide-eyed. 'The wolves –do you figure they'll be back, you know, to kill you?'

'Harry says so. Tonight.' Hermione's hands started trembling. Her needle dropped in her lap. 'Father tells me nothing.'

'Find out, dormouse! _Make_ King James tell you. Or ask Prince Leo.'

'Leo would only pat my chin and say "_Trust to Father and me."'_

Ginny snorted in exasperation. 'What else did Prince Harrison say?'

'That –that there was just one wolf, though Father said there were more. I don't really know.'

'So where were you in all of this?'

'I had a fit. One moment I was at my desk after supper, the next I was lying on the tiles. Ginny, it looked like a massacre. The wolves attacked Harry instead of me.'

'Lordy me, that's disgusting. Aren't you petrified?'

Hermione stared back, feeling helpless, not knowing what to say.

Ginny stopped any pretence at needlework. She glared at Hermione with disbelief. 'How can you just sit on your behind waiting to be torn apart? Your family feeds you crumbs, like a pet mouse in a sumptuous little cage. Why hasn't the King told you the wolves'll be back? Why does Prince Harry know more about your fate than you do?'

Hermione wanted to tell her friend everything was under control, that Lord Dumbledore would listen, that she only had to trust her father. But his face that morning, his tears…

Her body started shivering. She felt weak and dizzy. The room swayed.

Ginny rose, pulling Hermione firmly up by her waist.

'The Princess isn't feeling well,' she announced to the room. 'She'll rest now.'

Hermione struggled in her best friends grip. 'No, it'll pass-'

'_Shoosh,_' growled Ginny in her ear, dragging her towards the door. 'We're going to get some answers.'


End file.
